Always
by Lagadatte
Summary: Through feigned oblivion and measured distance he had tempted fate; through selfishness he had stayed by her side, tempting himself. Ultimately it did not matter, all his efforts crumbling as the precious woman before him extended a loving hand despite everything, binding her happiness to him – the one who had stolen the happiness of many. Oneshot.


**AN:**** This story is not quite a lemon, but it is as close as it can get, so consider yourselves warned: if you think such contents might disturb you or offend you, please stop reading ****now****.**

**To everyone else: I hope you enjoy the product of a newly-found obsession and a sleepless night.**

* * *

They were kneeling across from each other, at the head of the futons, as was custom. Still and quiet and yet loud even in the silence, an unspoken emotion thrummed between them and sang of joys and fears and of trust. The lantern on the side was flickering shyly, the pale light licking at the shadows all around, dissipating them in a warm orange glow. It brought out the reds of her skin, drawing his eyes to the enticing flush of her cheeks, the colour reaching down her neck and disappearing beneath the hem of her simple yukata where his eyes lingered, drinking in the tender skin where the fabric brushed against the curve of her neck.

He swallowed thickly, willing his eyes back to her face, meeting her own – blue, darkened with the palette of night, pupils dilated with a nervous anticipation and pure _joy_ – emotions that he could subconsciously read in her ki, burning brightly in her core. A fire of innocence and strong will that shone brighter than the sun itself, warming him as it might a frozen beggar and he found himself basking in it, reaching out for it even when he knew he shouldn't, marveling at the impossible: that one such as himself would deserve the happiness of calling her his. But there she stood now, kneeled before him, all innocence and smiles and promise and _peace_, giving herself willingly, _happily_ even, in the bloody hands of a man who would never, _could_ never deserve her.

How much he wanted her.

How much he _needed_ her, a sip of water for the thirsty, a gulp of air for the drowning.

Yet he hadn't dared reach out lest he stains the purity he so depended on. Through feigned oblivion and measured distance he had tempted fate; through selfishness he had stayed by her side, tempting himself. Ultimately it did not matter, all his efforts crumbling as the precious woman before him extended a loving hand despite everything, binding her happiness to him – the one who had stolen the happiness of many. She wanted to be by his side, she had decided long ago, he knew now. And the only thing he could do was revel in the undeserved bliss bestowed him, treasuring it, vowing before her and before the Gods to keep her safe and happy for as long as he lived.

And there they stood now, man and wife, the light of the first moon of their union barely peeking through the shoji of her room.

And how her heart was flying! Like the wings of a hummingbird, it drummed steadily with each quickened breath she took, her chest rising quickly beneath the soft fabric hiding it. Her pulse was measuring hurriedly beneath the soft skin of her neck, up there in the shadow below her chin. For a moment Kenshin pictured brushing his lips against it, one hand clutching her hair gently at the nape as he pulled her closer, curling around her warmth. He gulped, feeling the carefully built mask of ignorance slip away. He had pretended to not see her in _that_ way for so long… and he was so tired…

Slowly, determinedly, she put her hands before her, palms-down, and bowed so low that her forehead brushed the tatami, her silky hair, for once not bound in a defiant knot, spilling around her like a jet waterfall. It was tradition – it had always been done and would always be done, bowing to one's husband, showing the complete surrender, both physical and spiritual, to the man she would share her life with – she was his. Even so, it felt wrong and his throat tightened; he was the one, who should bow to her and beg forgiveness for indulging in the selfishness of claiming her hand; he was the one, who should bow, promising to never let her down, vowing to treasure her trust until his very last breath; he was the one, who should bow, thanking her as no words could express for choosing this worthless one.

Even in her submission there was fire, however, and he could feel it burning below the surface – a whirlwind of emotion and of _love_, that turned this simple tradition into so much more – a moment of declaration that spoke more of her feelings than words could tell.

She was his.

There was something else flickering there, however, tangled in between the torrent of her ki, a feeling he was so attuned to that he would recognise it anywhere, an emotion that had defined those around him for much too long, burning like ashes on the back of his tongue – fear. Why was she afraid? Of him? That he would hurt her? Heavens forbid, not that, never that, he never would, never _could_-

Her hands tightened, pressing firmly to the mat as she moved not a muscle, still as a statue and he realised she was waiting, the fear and distress growing with every passing second. With a jolt it dawned on him – she was not afraid of _him_; she was afraid of rejection, afraid of displeasing him, for he hadn't budged to approach her yet even though he ought to reach out, showing the acceptance he had given long ago without even knowing it. She was afraid he saw a child in her, a girl, unwilling to claim her in any other way. And how could she not be, he had tried so hard to let her think just that, to protect her from himself – all for naught. Had he made her feel unwanted? She, the most beautiful of creatures, the most tender, desirable; did she feel unsure?

Of course she would, he realised, remembering all those times when Yahiko had joked at her expense, criticizing her looks needlessly. He had never interfered then, for she was strong and she bore herself with dignity, putting the quips – for they were nothing more than, he knew as well as she did – below her, overlooking them. Even so, she was a woman – young still and uncourted. Yahiko's words must have hurt her, however little. Must have lodged inside. Must have confused her.

And he had done nothing to show her that the boy couldn't be more wrong – that she was so precious, so fair, that it caught his breath whenever he saw a smile blossom on her lips. If only she knew how much he longed for her touch… how much it had cost him to walk away from the promise in her eyes whenever she looked at him, expecting, begging silently for his acceptance.

His hands, those bloodied scarred hands, clenched on his knees and he bent his head low, tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

"Kaoru-dono…" he started slowly through a voice too hoarse to belong to him, his throat parched and tight with the emotions he could hardly voice. "I have apologies to offer you, that I do."

She stiffened, forgetting all customs and raising her head to look him in the eyes, still bent forward on trembling hands. Her eyes were wide with the fear he had felt and he hardly suppressed the cringe at seeing it, now so acute that it almost drowned the initial joy that had settled so thickly in her core.

"This worthless one…" he started again, eyeing his clutched fists before meeting that pained look. Something in him broke, the mask shattering entirely, and a shudder ran through him at the overwhelming emotions he deliberately let himself indulge in now, letting them spill on his face, burning in his eyes, laying thick in the husky voice. "I have longed for you… to touch you… for so long… Yet I never… I could never…" he whispered, one fist unclenching slowly as his hand lifted on its own accord, reaching out without thinking.

Her eyes, those expressive eyes that spoke so openly of her inner world, widened again, this time with stunned surprise as her breath caught. Calloused fingers brushed against the heat of her skin, drinking in the warmth as he cupped her cheek, thumb tracing down the delicate cheekbone through a feather-light touch. She sighed in relief, as her eyelids flitted closed and she leaned in his touch, chest heaving with the shallow quick breaths that followed, her face flushing an even darker scarlet than before. Her hands lifted to his, grasping it tightly as she turned ever so slightly, pressing soft lips at his palm.

"You belong here, with me. Always." she vowed quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as if to emphasize her words, to show him that she meant every word of it.

It was as if electricity shot through him, sneaking down his arm and to his chest, his heart clenching with the overwhelming heat that had stirred within with such a simple act. A ragged breath escaped him, his eyes fixing on the sweet lips that still lingered by his skin, warm moist breath tickling his wrist.

The dam broke, the tide swept him, blood roaring in his ears as he leaned closer, all caution forgotten. _Gods forgive me… but I am only human…_

Her lips were soft and gentle against his, uncertain first, but oh so eager as she sighed contently against his own, pouring a year's worth of desire and expectation into a kiss that was so long due. She tasted of jasmine and of wild cherries and of summer nights and of home and Kenshin sighed through a smile as he pulled away ever so slightly, touching his forehead against her own, reveling in the sensation of her warm breath fanning across his skin.

"Always." he echoed her words and his lips were back on hers with an impatience he didn't know he had been harbouring.

Something had changed this time, a fiery hunger brimming below the surface, coating his form as he shifted forward, eagerly wrapping a hand around her slender waist and pulling her closer, crashing her form against his own and she let out a surprised squeak as she found herself straddling his knee. His hands clutched at her yukata, pressing her flush to him; he could feel each and every enticing curve of her figure even through the flimsy material as he trembled with want and he gasped, pressing his lips at the curve of her neck, that patch of snow-white skin that was temptingly hidden just beneath the hem of her kimono, surrendering to the scent of her, the warmth that had now turned into a fire burning through his veins.

"Kaoru…" the name rolled off his lips, thick with need and desire, all honorifics forgotten, all masks dropped long ago.

Her heart was drumming again as she hurried to catch her breath.

"Yes." she said through a cracked voice, mouth as dry as his felt, before clearing her throat and trying again past the huskiness. "I'm here. I'm yours."

_Mine_. The word branded in his mindscape, burning brightly and blindingly and his lips were moving up her neck hungrily, leaving a moist trail to the hollow beneath her ear where he stopped, gently sucking on the tender skin there, brushing his tongue against it, _tasting_ her. A soft whimper escaped her, her hand moving to the back of his head, clutching at his hair desperately as she subconsciously pulled him closer.

Something clenched in the pit of his stomach, desire burning thick in his veins as she whispered his name against his hair, nails scraping at the nape of his neck. A primal feeling awoke in him and he straightened up, crushing his lips against hers once again, running a tongue across them impatiently, one hand buried in her silky hair, the other dropping down to her waist, caressing her side hungrily, brushing slightly against the side of her breasts before moving to the small of her back and venturing lower. A groan escaped him as calloused fingers ran down her hips, her bottom, and her thigh, hand clutching at the fabric there, willing it away, and she gasped against his lips. He had to remind himself to go slowly, that she had never been touched like this before, never been kissed, much less so fiercely, so demandingly, that this was new to her.

Kaoru, however, seemed to be of another opinion as she returned to kissing him just as achingly and Kenshin soon found himself panting for breath, his head swimming blissfully. Through feverish fingers she undid the band clasping his hair, letting it spill free beneath her touch and she fisted it with a low moan against his lips, as if she had been thirsting to do this for much too long. Her thighs clenched subconsciously around his own, one knee brushing low between his legs as her other hand sneaked beneath the rim of his yukata, trembling fingers tracing his chest hungrily.

It was like pouring oil over a raging fire.

"Oh God, Kaoru…" he heard himself say and his hands were undoing the belt of her clothing, hungrily pulling the fabric down from her shoulders to reveal the milky skin below as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, tracing kisses down her shoulder, licking and biting, one hand raising to cup her breast and he had to will himself in control as excitement boiled unbearably in the pit of his stomach, burning on the inside. And she moaned his name in between shallow gasps, her voice hoarse and pleading without her even knowing what she was pleading for.

Without thinking he had picked her up and maneuvered them to the futons with the speed that only Himura Kenshin could possess, laying her down gently. The robe had come undone now, tangled around and beneath her and his eyes drank her figure hungrily before leaning over, one leg kneeled between hers, propping himself on an elbow, crushing his lips to hers as his hair spilled around them like a scarlet curtain. Before he knew when or how, her hands had undone the belt of his own yukata, sneaking beneath it, over his shoulders, nails digging in his back and he groaned low in his chest. Her leg wrapped around his instinctively, the heat of her inner thigh burning through the fabric that still clung to his lower body and he hissed quietly. His free hand moved down automatically, gripping below her thigh through a feverish touch, swallowing thickly as he pulled her closer, his knee pressing flush between her legs.

A whimper rolled off her lips and her eyes fluttered closed as she whispered his name again and he found himself bowing his head next to hers, gasping in her ear, trying to catch his breath as his heart threatened to fly out of his chest, desire rocking his frame.

"Mine." he whispered and he was kissing her everywhere, down her neck and her chin and her cheeks and her forehead and her lips, committing every aspect of her to memory, painting her anew with his lips. His hands tightened around her, hot and moist against her skin as he shifted before her, shrugging the yukata off completely, claiming what he had wanted ever since he met her and never dared to desire – claiming her.

* * *

Later that night he would moan her name desperately in her ear, a groan rolling off his lips as he would fall apart all around her and inside her, blinded white and unseeing, only feeling as his whole world would tip on its axis with her in the center of it, the only thing that mattered. And he would collapse against her form, breathing heavily, barely holding himself on one elbow, pressing light kisses to her neck where his lips had brushed when he bowed over her in his height. And she would stroke his hair and his shoulders and his back, whispering quietly that she would never let him go, never again, and that they would always be like this and he would drink her words hungrily, willing them to be true.

And it would be alright, to stay with her, just like this, just for now. Surely even someone as unworthy as him deserved to see the blissful smile he brought to her lips, did he not?

* * *

**AN:**** I discovered the magic of Rurouni Kenshin only recently and saw all of it in one breath, moving on to fanfiction when every manga chapter was thoroughly read and every episode and OVA was watched, some more than once. The numerous wonderful works I read, along with, of course, the wonderful story and characters lead me to writing this short drabble. The plot-bunny just wouldn't leave my head until I had jotted it down. It is based on one particular deleted scene from the Seisouhen OVA (if you haven't seen the deleted scenes, you can search them on youtube, they are absolutely beautiful and touching and I cannot imagine why they would take them out of the final cut). I was always curious how always-calm, always-composed Kenshin would switch from that image of absolute control and level-headedness to the more primal side of a lover… so I was curious to explore just that through fiction and I can only hope I did it justice! I enjoyed writing it immensely and I hope you enjoyed reading it too!**

**Notes on the text:**

**1. Why not go all the way? – Because I feel uncomfortable with it, strange as it might sound after describing so much of it already. Regardless, this is my first fiction resembling anything of the sort, I believe I have pushed my limits considerably and it is as far as I would be willing to go, for now. Do not get the wrong idea, I absolutely enjoyed writing it – I simply believe I would enjoy it less if I had to force myself to write something that sat ill with me.**

**2. So we have only Kenshin's point of view of… closure? – Because guess what, guys, contrary to fanfiction myths, girls don't always… ughm… climax… during sex and much less so when it is their first time and even less so at the same time with the guy hero who would hold out for two hours even though he hasn't been with another woman ever since he kind of killed his first wife eleven years ago. Nope, I don't think so. Haha, take that cold slap of reality.**

**Even so, I hope you enjoyed it. I apologise if the language or content upset anyone, but I did warn… In any case, your opinions are most welcome, I would love to get some feedback since this is my first time writing anything that intimate!**

**Thank you for taking the time to read and comment, you guys rock!**

**Ja ne~**


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